Smoke and Mirrors
by TheRedDragoon
Summary: How China fell, no one was really sure, but all that remained was a barren wasteland of rock and ash. The ethereal powers of the world had but one option: to send a champion back in time to save the world from catastrophe. The problem? They had to place all their money on a white peacock named Lord Shen.
1. Author Notes

**Smoke and Mirrors**

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Want to jump right into the story? Hit that next arrow!

 **\- Disclaimer -**

I do not own anything in regards to Kung Fu Panda or any associated trademarks. The work here within is nonprofit and has been done for the enjoyment of its audience. To any readers/writers out there, feel free to use any ideas or original characters in your own works.

 **\- Author Notes -**

Originally, I wasn't even going to post this story but I figured why not? I haven't posted anything in a long time, mostly due to my thesis, and this is what I have been working on while writing so I figured I'd post something to see if anyone enjoys it.

Now I should mention that I have only ever seen the movies so any additional information comes from the wiki and because of this there might be mistakes. If there are, feel free to point them out.

To any readers potentially annoyed at me for not updating previous works. I am working on them but like to drift around from fandom to fandom. Lately I have been writing this but I hope to get back into HTTYD in a few weeks. Time will tell. Still, I recommend giving this story a shot because, why not?

 **\- Question and Answer -**

 **But, time travel? Why time travel?** **It's the worst cliché in the entire book.**

Writing very good fanfiction is extremely hard due to rigid cannon so I like to take some creative liberties in my work. By essentially starting over, I can now do many more things such as kill characters or develop them differently. However, as this is fanfiction we do not want to stray too far from the beaten path as the readers are looking for specific personalities and characters (which is why OC's, even well written, are so dangerous) but I want enough liberty to write a decent plot without stepping all over the cannon's story line. Hence, time travel.

 **What are the pairings?**

This question drives me crazy to be honest but let me say this: I am not a romantic writer and as such, romance will not be a main point in this story. Does this mean characters won't get feelings for each other? Or course not because such emotions are natural but do not expect pages upon pages of romance. One thing I want to make very clear: while this is a story primarily about Shen and Po, it is not about them in a romantic light but rather exploring how the two characters interact with one another.

 **Will I like this story?**

No idea. Everyone has different tastes. All I can say is give it a shot, if you like it awesome! If not, no harm, no foul. Feel free to tell me either way.

 **Your writing is terrible.**

Constructive feedback is always appreciated but I would like a bit more than this. Why is my writing so terrible? You want to flame? Go for it but give it some substance please.

 **Your writing is the best ever!**

This is not constructive. Although, it might put a smile on my face.

 **I have a question!**

Feel free to PM me. I have been notoriously bad with PMs lately but I blame that on my thesis sucking the life out of my soul. Hopefully, now that it is almost done, I can focus a bit more on my work here.

 **Do you have a beta?**

No, I edit everything myself. Still, errors are to be expected even though I do my best to catch them. The plots are all self derived; no one in the world knows what is going to happen next other than yours truly.


	2. Greetings and Salutations

**Smoke and Mirrors**

Prologue – Greetings and Salutations

* * *

Being crushed by a cannon was not one of the better experiences of Shen's life. Unfortunately, nor was it the worst.

Groaning, Shen attempted to use his wings to push himself up. However, they simply cut through the air around him; it was as if he were drifting underwater, unable to find traction. Waving his wings around in a burst of panic, Shen opened his eyes.

A kaleidoscope of colors bombarded Shen; the colors surrounded him like a luminous and strange night sky. Stopping his wings in mid flap, Shen watched as the myriad of swimming colors morphed into discernible shapes as if they were an artist's painting coming to life.

"It's unfortunate that you find yourself here, Shen."

Shen jumped, as much as he could in his limbo-like state, as the sudden voice smashed the silence like a firework in the night. It had a feminine quality to it, light and sweet, yet containing unwavering, undeniable power.

"Women, I suggest you start explaining: where is the panda, my city and where in the hell am I? Hurry up, I have no patience for petty games," Shen answered, his gaze flashing around the area with frenzied haste.

The voice didn't respond immediately, and Shen found his focus distracted by the mystical colors swirling around.

"Women?" An air of curiosity and amusement surrounded the tone of the strange voice. "I can see why you might think that, but my gender is of no concern to you now or ever."

Shen closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. The air was chilling and thick, almost as if it were a snake slithering down his throat. Opening his eyes, Shen said, "Stop stalling and get to the point."

The voice sighed, and Shen felt his feathers and robe flutter up around him in the sudden wind. "First you were given your feeling back. Isn't it strange how, even after being crushed by a cannon, you feel no pain?"

Shen didn't deny the allocation. He felt quite adequate, despite the strange circumstances. Glancing downward, he noticed his bruises and cuts were gone – nothing marred his perfect and glorious form. Quite happy about the revelation, Shen continued his examination downward. His robe was back to its proper, exquisite state – of course, that was because he was wearing it.

Suddenly, Shen's breath caught in his throat, as he stared downward at his feet. His talons were perfect; no casting of metal met his eyes, only flesh and blood. It was a sight unseen for almost twenty years.

"Next, you were given back your sight, and with it, you observed everything that is and nothing that is not." The voice was speaking again, but Shen barely paid attention. "The next step on your journey granted you sound. And finally, I give you one last thing, your sense of smell, returned in full."

The next second, he wished the strange creature hadn't.

Coughing heavily, Shen tried to ignore the scents in the air. The burning smell of gunpowder, fire and smoke were well known and manageable, but the scent of seared flesh never sat well with him, making his insides feel like swarms of flies. Normally, he was able to stomach it, but it was so strong and empowering that it felt as if the odor were seeping into his very soul.

Shen rapidly shook his head and gagged.

Someone would suffer, very painfully, if he wasn't able to get the smell out of his robe.

"Look around you Shen. Tell me, if you please, what do you see?"

Snarling, the peacock surveyed the area. Once again, the colors surrounding him were swirling; they looked like dye dropped into a whirlpool, chaotic but with symmetry. Just as Shen opened his beak to voice his esteem opinion, the colors began to form shapes. No longer did they look like paintings, but rather, like a window into a world, one with meticulous clarity and depth.

"This is the world as it is," the strange voice said, a hint of sadness hanging on the air.

"Really?" Shen said with ice-cold sarcasm. "Thank you for clearing that up for me, I had no idea. After all, I'm confident my city was not a pile of ashes a minute ago."

Shen pointed his wing at the scene around him. The remains of Gongmen City were undeniable: pieces of red roofs stuck out of debris, walls shattered like a child's plaything, a twisted monstrosity that was barely recognizable as the former glorious port. Strangely, the water itself, while black and dirty, lacked any of the wooden fragments that floated there only moments before when he was fighting the panda. There were no signs of any of his ships.

"Your perception of time is erroneous, Lord Shen."

Shen chirped out a quick chuckle and then said, "Oh, I see. Rather than think that you are trying to trick me, I should instead think that events that occurred recently, actually happened a long time ago, or that they never happened at all." Shen paused for a moment, before continuing, "Perhaps, you and my old soothsayer should get together sometime; I feel you would both enjoy the useless prattle that comes from the others lips."

"It's quite simple, Shen," the voice answered as it would with a child, slowly and carefully. "Time moves very differently when you are no longer on the plains of the living."

Shen felt a shiver travel all the way from his head feathers down to his train. Just as he opened his beak to speak, to demand answers, the voice spoke with a chipper tone.

"You're dead, Shen. Welcome to the afterlife."


	3. Knock, Knock

**Smoke and Mirrors**

Chapter 1 – Knock, Knock

* * *

It was a beautiful morning in the valley of peace. The sun peaked out from behind the mountains and shined its illumination upon all, a signal to begin the day; the dew glimmered in the light and children ran through the streets with their energy sparked. Even the farmers of the valley worked with a spring in their step regardless of the planting season workload. The effect was contagious, and every being from rabbit to goose to miniscule plant was in a marvelous mood.

Most of the creatures in the valley were mundane. They were fine with their simple farming culture and did not have any need for luxuries and delicacies. The diverse assortment of festivals and the dancing and singing were more than enough for their happiness. They thrived in the simplicity and peace.

It was for this reason that most of the farmers paused briefly to observe the stranger walking down the road. To them, he was the one of the strangest characters they had ever seen. He was a large bird, taller than most of the farmers of the valley. His feathers were a ghostly white – the color of death. Regal and posed, the avian animal walked with the resolve of a king. He dressed like one too: his silk robe glittered slightly in the sun, the intricate weaving and expert tailoring accented him flawlessly – making the farmers wonder just who this evidently powerful and influential figure was. By far his most unusual feature was his tail. A train, twice as long as he was tall, was carefully positioned behind him, lifted just enough to not drag on the dirty ground. The long feathers featured an array of red and black eyes. The creature was a peacock.

Lord Shen was finding the day to be ridiculously boring and monotonous. Looking around the valley, Shen scowled at the curious farmers, watching their heads dip back into their fields as soon as they noticed him watching. He didn't blame them for staring – after all; it was understandable that such dull creatures would be impressed and wondered by him, but it was distracting him from what he needed to do today.

Carefully moving along the road, his metal talons clicking on the rocky surface like a metronome, Shen watched the village of the Valley of Peace get closer and closer. Ignoring both the stupid peons and the tranquility of the morning, Shen drifted into his thoughts and the events that led him to where he was.

 _"Shen, you must find peace with yourself," the mysteriously and feminine voice said, trying to calm the furious peacock._

 _"Peace? Peace!" Shen shouted. "You just said that I am dead. How can there be any peace! Besides, peace is for those who are too weak to accept who they are. I know who I am." Shen accented each of his words with unwavering confidence, "I. Am. Lord. Shen."_

 _"That you are."_

 _Shen, with deep, throbbing breaths, collected his poise. "And it is my right to rule China," Shen said through clenched beak._

 _"I agree."_

 _"And nothing you say-" Shen abruptly stopped his rant, eyes widening momentarily in surprise. "What did you say?"_

 _"I agree that it is your right to rule China – your fate if you will."_

 _Shen laughed loudly. "Oh, I suppose that's why I died after having the shortest reign in history. Was that my destiny too?"_

 _The voice sighed. With it, a strange scent was pushed into the air. The smell was a mixture of concoctions: from wooden forests to various herbs, the array was like being lost in a sea of scents - as soon as one became distinguishable, another would replace it._

 _Shen was entirely sure that he had smelt that exact blend before. He just couldn't remember where._

 _"Fate is made by those who walk the trails, Shen." The words were spoken slowly and carefully as if the speaker found the content shameful._

 _Shen rolled his eyes. "Ah, so it's my fault then?"_

 _"I have no desire to get into an argument with you; there are things that need to be done. And they need to be done soon."_

 _The scent disappeared as abruptly as it appeared, and Shen felt chilling air fill his lungs._

 _"After your death, the world fell into a disconsolate darkness – one that cannot be allowed," the voice said emotionally._

 _"Oh, and why is that? Darkness is not inherently bad," Shen said haughtily._

 _The voice snapped out a quick response, "The darkness was not the problem, it's what it brought with it." Without pausing, the voice continued, "When the fall happened, we desired to keep an ace in our pocket. After all, even the ethereal powers of this world can only do so much; the chance of losing everything was a very real possibility."_

 _"And let me guess-"_

 _"You are that ace, Lord Shen."_

 _"Lucky me," Shen sarcastically said as he rubbed the top of his head with a wing._

 _"Blame your family for that. Your royal blood gives you connection to us, connections that we can use to great effect. By manipulating it, we can break the time-space continuum and allow you to change the past."_

 _"To before I died."_

 _"Correct." The voice said with giddy. "We cannot send you back as far as your childhood but we managed to scrounge enough power to send you back to when Po ascended to the dragon warrior. Years of history will be erased, so there is no fear of time paradoxes or any intricate complications. However, this is it. If you mess up again, there will be no third try; we are sacrificing, arguably, too much for just this chance."_

 _Shen kept quiet. Admittedly, it was difficult, but the proposed rewards were too great to jeopardize. Of course, there was no way he was going to fix this stupid darkness problem they had. As far as Shen was concerned, they could just light a candle. But if this senseless woman somehow resurrected him, well, it was her loss and his gain._

 _"It will take me only a few moments to prepare the ritual. After all, we have been planning this for a while now." The voice paused for a moment. "However, while we do so, I have some advice to give you for your second chance, some tips to follow. If you follow them, I guarantee you will find your success."_

Shaking his head rapidly, Shen cleared his thoughts. He had no intention of stopping any darkness or evil or whatever the crazed god wanted him to do. Nor did he intend to follow her tips – the very idea made Shen want to throw up in his beak. Although, try as he might, Shen couldn't get her final tidbit of wisdom out of his mind.

 _"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."_ rang through his head like the chime of a gong.

Shen hated that quote. His father used it all the time when spouting the reasons for diplomacy over war.

High-pitched giggling and laughing broke into the crisp morning air, and Shen shifted his attention to the disturbance. His right wing gently rubbed the incredibly sharp edge of one of the blades in his sleeves.

Children ran around the fields with apparent mirth and happiness. The fields parted and swayed in pace with the kids almost as if the gods themselves were joining in on their fun.

Their parents, of course, were telling them to settle down in various pitches ranging from ear splitting to rumbling growls.

It was a disgusting display.

Snarling, Lord Shen turned his attention back to the road and started to head toward the village in the near distance. He did his best to ignore the ridiculous actions of the peasants in the field. It was something that Shen would never understand – the caring and tenure of crops. But that was fine; they had their place in life.

Shen's metal talons sank into the dirt, and the peacock snarled angrily.

The animals here were so incompetent they didn't even know how to maintain a proper road. This one was a complete mess – if Shen found his talons dulled by such poor conditions, someone would pay.

Frustrated, the Lord ruffled his feathers to try and clear off any grime; grime from both the dirty road and from the air. Creatures of such lowly stature polluted the very air with their breath and Shen would make sure to clean any of that crap out as soon as he could.

Knowing that the longer he lollygagged around, the worse it would get, Shen picked up his pace.

"Good day to you, traveler!" a voice called out in the vicinity, visible cheer drenching the words.

Shen turned his red eyes over to the origin of the sound. He could smell the repulsive odor that emanated from the creature, and he didn't even have a great sense of smell.

The speaker was a pig slightly shorter than Shen that was leaning on a nearby fence and looking at the Lord with obvious curiosity dancing in his green eyes. The clothing he wore was simple generic fare with clumps of mud and stains adorning it like some demented lace engraving.

Seeing Shen's powerful, piercing gaze the pig's smile fell slightly, and he chuckled nervously.

"Uh, are you okay?" the pig tentatively asked when Shen remained quiet.

Shen's red eyes examined the figure in detail, and he calmly said, "That remains to be seen."

"Well, is there anything I-"

With a wing pointed at the pig, Shen interrupted, "What is your name?" The voice the Lord used was one that his father taught him. It was a voice that left no room to wiggle, no room to dodge. It wasn't loud, it wasn't angry, but it made everyone know who had control of the situation.

"My name?" the pig asked in a high-pitched voice as he leaned away from the fence.

"Yes, your name you contumelious creature. You do have one, I assume?" Shen snarled out at the pig.

Instead of being cowered by the imposing figure in front of him, the pig took a revitalizing breath and stood up straighter. When he spoke, his voice was far steadier, "Of course. I go by-"

"Actually, I have a better idea, what are the names of your spawn?" Shen interrupted with a wave of his wing.

"W-what?" The pig's eyes widened in horror and quickly flashed to the nearby field where two small piglets ran around, obnoxiously ignoring the screeching coming from a female near a shack.

Bingo.

Shen approached the pig and said with a calculating tone, underlined with pure revulsion, "Yes, those ugly misfits wandering the field are yours. Right?" When the pig hesitated for a second, Shen deftly added, "Do not even think of lying to me."

The pig watched the peacock with fear dancing in his eyes like young lovers in the midnight moonlight. He very briefly nodded.

"I thought so; the resemblance is…uncanny." Shen smiled like a hawk moving in for the kill. "Their names?"

The pig remained quiet for a moment. The fear in his eyes was slightly dimming as he built up confidence.

"Hurry up," Shen snapped at the pig, "I, unlike you, have places to be."

With his newfound resolve, the green eyes of the pig stared into Shen's red ones, and their owner said, "Yong and Jing. And my name is Guo."

Shen gave a long, exaggerated clap with his two wings and mockingly replied, "See, was that so hard?"

"Why did you need to know?" The question contained no hesitation, but the owner couldn't fool Shen. The peacock knew that beneath the calm surface was a raging battle of confusion and fear. The pathetic creature simply couldn't handle his grandiose presence.

Shen rolled his eyes and sighed. "It's called manners you insolent fool. Now enough with your useless nattering, you see, I am looking for a panda, and I heard he lived in this area. All, you need to do is point me in the right direction."

The pig let out a deep breath of relief and lifted his hand to above his heart. "Po?" he asked.

A disturbing feeling arose within the peacock Lord, and he trembled internally. That was a name he didn't want to hear more than necessary.

"Yes, I have business with him."

For a moment, it looked as if the pig was going to ask what an undeniably wealthy and powerful creature wanted with the panda, but in the end, decided he was better off not knowing. "Uh, he usually works with his Dad in the afternoons, but he might still be sleeping. I would check his house."

While Shen's exterior was as calm and gracefully as the valley he currently resided in, internally, he was freaking out. There was another panda that he didn't know about? How in the world was that even possible?

"And where might that be?" Lord Shen inquired calmly.

The response of the pig was immediate – he evidently wanted to be done with crazy peacocks. "Mr. Ping's Noddle Shop; I'm sure someone in town could point you in the right direction."

Did this pig think Shen was a fool? Noodles!? The panda was a warrior – he had nothing to do with something as pathetic as noodles.

"Noodles? That's very interesting." Shen said with rancor burrowing into his words. He leaned forward and whispered into the pig's ear with a soothing yet dangerous voice, "I will be sure to investigate, but I hope, for your sake, that you are telling the truth. It would be just terrible for something to happen to your children. After all, the world would miss them, oh so much."

Spineless cowards were so easy to deal with. There was no doubt to Shen that the pig would never dare tell another soul of his threat. The pig would be too scared of the consequences.

"So, in light of that, is there anything else you need to inform me of?" Shen asked with false sweetness.

Eyes full of fear like a bucket of water, the pig rapidly shook his head back and forth.

That was interesting. Shen was positive that such a banal creature would be suitably intimidated. Was it possible that he was telling the truth? Or what he believed to be the truth?

"Good." Shen purred at the pig with a wicked smile on his beak.

Taking that as an order of dismissal, the pig rapidly retreated into his field, rushing toward his children.

Shen watched the pig with mirth swimming in his red eyes as he called out one last time, "I hope you have a sensational afternoon."

A chuckle rose to his beak, but Shen quelled it down. Such effervescent demeanor in front of menial creatures would be uncouth. Turning back to the road, the Lord quickly headed toward town.

It only took another half hour of traveling to reach his destination, but to Shen that was a half hour too long – the countryside was so deplorable. Still, the village was pleasant enough. Sure, it was small and impoverished, but there was an amicable charm to it that even Shen enjoyed.

The village rested in the magnificent valley like a child in the embrace of its mother. Of course, that mother could just as easily been the Jade Palace, which overlooked the pastoral town. While, lacking any of the majesties of Shen's home city, it still contained an aesthetic that was easy on the eyes. Red roofs, large trees, and vast arrays of hanging lanterns, along with the lively market, gave the place a lively and queer feel.

Naturally, Shen stood out like a sore thumb with his wealthy clothing and contemptuous posture as he strolled down the main street like he owned the place. Goats, pigs, and various animals paused to stare at him, and children excitedly whispered to their parents while pointing feverishly at him.

Shen wondered how many, if any, of these animals were properly educated. If so, they would know who he was: the feared Peacock Lord that committed genocide – his white feathers were a dead giveaway. However, even if that was true, it was also true that they could do nothing about it. His father banished him from Gongmen sure, but he never disowned Shen, and none of these people would dare go against royalty. The warriors up at the Jade Palace would confront him, but even they couldn't do anything about his transgressions. By all accounts and laws, his father had already punished him for his crimes and thankfully, they knew nothing of what he was planning. Then again, they could always take matters into their own paws and wings, but Shen doubted their morals would allow for that.

Still, Shen preferred to avoid them as much as possible for the time being. A distraction by the Jade Palace would be extremely annoying. His plans for those rascals needed some more time.

The market was loud and comprised of an enormous assortment of smells, most of which made Shen want to vomit. But there were a few more exquisite scents, some of which made the lord pause in surprise as they tickled his sensors like a feather. At least someone around here had decent tastes.

Shen turned, his train flowing behind in silky smooth motion like a professional dancer and headed for a poorer part of the market as he looked for someone to interrogate. His target made herself quite clear: a female goat standing by a shop while rummaging through her bags. She was small and wearing clean, while cheap, clothing. But best of all, she was in an overly cheerful, and thus impressionable, mood.

"Good day to you." Shen said as he approached the goat.

Brown eyes jumped to his red ones in surprise, and Shen noticed them drink in his silk garments as they trailed up and down his body.

"Good day. Can I help you with something?" the goat said cheerfully. Her ear sparsely twitched.

"Very much so and I'll keep it elementary: I am seeking a place named Mr. Pings Noodles. Could you point it out for me?" It pained Shen to speak so equally to such an unworthy creature, but it was better to draw as little attention as possible.

The goat laughed rambunctiously and then said, once she calmed down, "I really hope you are not looking to hire Mr. Ping. Everyone around here knows just how good he is, but he loves it here and won't leave for any amount of money."

Hire him? Why in the world would Shen want to hire some noodle cook – did the goat think he actually ate such drab food?

Shen's patience began to wear thin, and he snapped out, "My business is my own – although it would be nice if you're capable of pointing the restaurant out."

"You're wasting your time." The goat said with a chuckle and a smile, unaware of the tornado forming in the peacock's anger.

"I'll be the judge of that – something tells me you're not qualified." Shen spit out at the goat. His wing found hold of one of his blades.

She blinked in surprise and watched the peeved lord for a moment. Finally, she said, "Fine, take the first left there," a goat's hoof pointed toward a nearby corner that led to an alley between some of the larger of the villages structures. "Then take the second right, there should be an arch you can cross and wah lah, Mr. Pings Noodles," the goat said with annoyance in her tone. "Is that easy enough for you?" she sarcastically added.

And the line was officially crossed.

Shen waited a minute before speaking. "Did you know that in China when a citizen speaks inappropriately to nobility that lord or lady can cut out their disrespectful tongue with the entire weight of the law on their side?"

The goat blinked.

"Yes, it's something that pains my gentle soul to have to do, but it's necessary to keep the riffraff in check." Shen removed his wing from the robe, the sunlight twinkling off the surface of a small, yet very sharp, feather-shaped blade. With a cocky smile, he took a step toward the goat who tried to take one back only to feel her back hit the wood of the building.

"Now, is there anything that you want to say to me?" Shen purred.

Her response was immediate and rushed, "I'm s-sorry." Her brown eyes no longer met his red ones, and she examined the floor at his feet. Just as it should be.

Oh how Shen loved this superiority over everyone; it was the world's greatest feast, one that he would devour every day of his life. Screw making a scene, it was worth it.

"Alas, it seems you can learn." Lord Shen said sarcastically and raised a wing to his beak in mock surprise. "Best go home and rest, I'm sure that took a lot out of you."

The goat didn't say anything. She merely bowed, grabbed her things and rushed away as fast as possible, stumbling over herself in her haste. But best of all, through some miracle, no one seemed to have noticed the confrontation if the hustle and bustle of the marketplace were anything to go by.

This time, Shen was unable to stop the mirth from momentarily slipping into his face as he heeded the goat's directions. After all, there was no reason to doubt what she said was true and if she did lie – well he was sure he could find her again.

The alleyway was surprisingly clean, but it was also narrow and somewhat claustrophobic even if the bright colors and cheerful personalities made it hospitable. The crowd wisely parted to the sides as he walked down the middle. If one of them stepped on his train, Shen would not be responsible for his actions. After a short time, in which the Lord sneered at more than one ridiculous, open-mouthed expression – thankfully nobody tried to ask him a question – he found himself staring up at a small arc.

Beyond the arc was a crowded area with all manners of creatures eating and chattering happily. The way their food splashed and flopped around, landing on everything from the floor to the deplorable critters faces, revolted Shen. Everything single animal in such a place was an insult and disgrace to their race.

Still, while Shen would have loved to educate them on proper manners, he was distracted by what he saw behind the counter. A goose was cutting something while talking to a fat, familiar white and black creature. It was hard to hear, but they were talking about something involving noodles.

Shen felt his blood run cold and almost fanned his train at the deplorable maggot in front of him. Instead, he reached into his sleeve, took out a knife and spun it skillfully between the feathers in his wing like it was no more harmful than a chopstick. Shen smiled; a smile that would scare death themselves.

He had found the panda that killed him.

* * *

 **Author Notes:**

And here be the first chapter. Shen is such a fun character to write: so much depth and character to explore and extract. His wit, ego and narcissism make his dialogue wicked fun; it can also make me feel a little dirty. After all, Shen is not a nice character. Anyone who commits, or attempts to commit, genocide obviously has a low opinion of life.

Let me know what you think!


	4. Noodles and Company

**Smoke and Mirrors**

Chapter 2: Noodles and Company

* * *

It didn't even take a second. Beak trembling in rage, Shen reacted out of pure instinct and let the knife fly. Like a rocket, the weapon cut through the air but unlike a rocket, the sharp feather-like blade was nearly soundless.

A clatter of wood hitting stone breached Shen's ears, and the panda ducked to retrieve a bowl that he had knocked off a shelf. The knife soared right over the panda's back and sunk deep into a wood wall with a light thud.

Red eyes closed. Shen's train quivered lightly, and his robe rose and fell in tune with his chest as the peacock breathed deeply.

Shen quickly grabbed three more knives in his feathers and prepared himself for the dragon warrior's retaliation.

It never came. Shen opened his eyes and looked at the panda. The black and white monstrosity was rubbing his head and whining as the goose berated him about something.

Even the patrons in the area paid his actions no heed. Did no one see the attack? Now, he knew he was good but it was hard to miss a knife flying through the air even at high speeds.

Refusing to believe that the panda could be that blind, Shen watched for a few more moments. But the panda didn't gesture toward him, glance at him or make any sign that indicated he even knew the peacock was there. The fool wasn't even in a defensive stance; he was just casually standing there, complaining to the goose. If Shen didn't know any better, he would guess that the only reason his knife missed was through dumb luck.

The panda was now swinging his hands in exaggerated motions and groaning.

Shen snarled viciously, his feathers fluttering slightly. How dare such a disgraceful, moronic creature mock him, HIM, of all beings in the world! It was not acceptable.

Talons clicking on the stone ground, Shen stepped forward and marched toward the panda with an imperial strut.

Now the various animals noticed him: a rabbit, chin drenched in broth stared, a pig complaining about his wife stopped mid rant, and children fidgeted in their seats.

After all, it was not every day that peasants got to see such an extravagant creature up close.

The peacock could see the curiosity that danced in their eyes, spinning and twirling around with hoops and ribbons. They desired to ask him who he was, to pester him with questions, to bother him. If they had even an inkling of intelligence, they would keep their distance.

Shen made sure to ignore the rabble as he quickly maneuvered through the noodle store toward his target.

As he came to a stop at the counter, the other animals wisely getting out of his way, Lord Shen shook his entire body from his head to his train as if he were a dog shaking grime from his body.

A cheap, red robe laced and edged by fake gold covered the off-white feathers of the goose, who, Shen assumed, was Mr. Ping. There was nothing remarkable about the animal; he had a yellow beak, gray wings and feet, and a cheerful expression. Most ridiculous was the stupid, cloth hat - shaped like a noodle bowl with chopsticks sticking out - that he wore.

The panda was as Shen remembered: big, bi-colored, and stupid. The deplorable creature was also wearing one of those utterly ridiculous noodle hats, as well as a dirty, cloth apron that, surprise, surprise, contained an engraving of a noodle bowl.

"No, no, no, we'll talk more about this later." Mr. Ping said with a small shake of his head. "Right now is not the time. We have work to do!"

A loud sigh resonated in the small restaurant; the panda's shoulders and head slumped as if they suddenly weighted twice as much.

Turning, the black and white panda finally noticed the peacock. His eyes widened, and a curious grin appeared on his face. "Hello?" the panda asked.

Shen's train tensed, and he clung the knife in his robe tighter. He reminded himself that the panda didn't know him – didn't know that he was the one to murder his people.

Green eyes looked into red, and the panda's curious smile started to disappear as the awkward silence increased, silence that was made even more apparent by the mundane chatter that filled the restaurant.

In that time, Shen noticed five different openings he could have used to kill the panda effortlessly. But how was that possible? The panda he remembered was not this useless.

The panda waved a flabby arm in from of Shen's eyes and said, "Hello? Can I help you?"

Was this bungling cretin really the same monster that killed him?

"Your name? What is it?" Shen had to keep himself from spitting at the vile creature; there was no reason to stoop to their level.

The panda's chubby finger pointed at his own chest, the digit sinking into his fur lightly. "Me?"

Ping, sensing the peacock's anger, injected himself into the conversation, like a mother throwing herself between a wolf and its prey. "Now good sir, surely there is no need-," he said with a quivering beak and slightly squeaky voice.

Shen ignored the stupid bird. "Yes, you, you inane half-wit," he hissed at the panda.

With a contemplative glint in his eyes, one squinting while the other was wide open and staring, the panda said, "I'm Po."

The name made Shen tense up like someone had poured ice-cold water down his back. It was so obvious that even Po seemed to have noticed.

"I see," was all the Lord said.

It was the same panda then. But how? Po was a warrior, not this… deplorable thing in front of him.

Shen glared at the source of his frustrations. It was a piercing, intrusive glare that tore through flesh and bone. To most it would be unnerving. To the panda? He simply met the gaze and smiled sheepishly.

Oh, how Shen hated him.

"Sir, if you are not going to order-" the goose started.

Switching his red, piercing glare to the brown orbs in front of him, Shen swiftly interrupted. "I'm here for my knife," the Lord said as he removed his left wing from his robe and casually gazed at his exquisite, white feathers.

Po's ears small ears stood on end. "Knife?" he asked and looked around as if one would suddenly appear out of thin air.

A large, repulsive bulge went down Ping's throat as he gulped, but other than that, the goose went as still as a piece of lifeless wood.

Shen turned his gaze from the goose to the panda and said with a flat, emotionless voice, "Yes, it's behind you."

A white wing, Shen's left, pointed out his query. Small fissures erupted out in the wood around the knife, accenting it like cracks in dried out mud.

"Really?" the large panda exclaimed and spun on his heels, almost tripping over himself.

Shen sent the sweetest smile he could at the panda. "It was a simple miscalculation."

"Miscalculation? How?" the goose asked, trepidation breeding with his words and creating grotesque offspring that made Shen's body tingle with excitement.

Withholding the smirk that threatened to break free at any moment, the peacock went back to examining his left wing, and said, with a rustled undertone like a cat purring at its trapped prey, "Oh you need not worry. Next time, I won't miss."

"Miss what?" the goose asked.

The lord just smiled.

Suddenly, Po, who had been trying to pull the knife out of the wood, managed to get a decent grip on the blade and yank it free. Of course, upon doing so, the panda spun backward and fell face first to the ground with an earth-shattering thud.

Empty bowls, chopsticks, baskets, even knives, all jumped and rattled from the resulting quake. Clangs, clatters, and bangs filled Shen's ears as he watched cutlery fall to the ground, bowls spin in place, and brief pandemonium erupt in the store.

Both the goose and the panda groaned. Although, Shen suspected it was for far different reasons.

Po's groans quickly morphed into an excited murmur of rushed comments. Shen had a hard time seeing what the panda was doing because the creature was lying on his fat stomach, but he was able to infer that the panda was looking at his knife.

The idea that such a creature was handling it made him feel dirty.

"Hey, this thing is really cool!"

Shen blinked as he watched the panda jump to his feet and bounce around with excitement.

During his bouncing, the knife slipped, and Po reflectively tried to grab it. Bad mistake.

"Ow!" Po exclaimed, his outburst masking the clinking of the knife as it hit the stone floor. "Wow, it's sharp."

Shen watched the panda sucking on his paw with inquisitive eyes. His eyes then drifted toward the bright crimson dripping off his precious, silver knife – a sight that brightened the Lords day.

The goose let out a gasp of surprise and quickly rushed to the panda. "Po? Are you okay?"

It was deeply insulting to have the creature turn its back on him, to dismiss him as if he wasn't worth the time, especially because it was over something as trivial as a cut finger.

Shen loudly cleared his throat. The brainless goose continued ignore him and fuss over Po.

The knives that he had been twirling in his right wing, under his robe, halted, the blades resting in between his feathers like snakes in the grass waiting for the right time to strike.

His wing twitched in anticipation.

Just as he was about to act, Shen closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. He needed to stop acting so rashly. It was a miracle no one noticed him throw the knife earlier. If he attacked the panda right now, half the village might confront him and while they would be no problem, the time they would buy for the furious five and Shifu to arrive would be. Shen knew he would be no match for those warriors. No, even though it pained Shen to postpone his revenge, it was far better to be smart about this. Besides, he confirmed that the panda was here, and that was the main goal for this trip. Now he could more forward with his other, more devious, plans.

Shen opened his eyes and drummed his left wing on the counter careful to avoid any stains on the pedestrian surface. "Are you going to give me my knife?" he asked the two squabbling figures. "Or are the two of you incapable of understanding basic instruction?"

One, twice, thrice did the goose blink as he looked at the leucistic peacock. He then shifted his vision to the blood-stained knife, before finally landing on Po who was wearing the most ludicrous expression Shen had ever seen: the panda's ears with bent in different directions, one eye was closed and his mouth was slightly agape.

What did that even mean?

When Shen spoke again, it was in a tone that bred caution and radiated confidence, "That knife is worth more than your entire shop. Your cooperation would be…wise."

"Who are you?" the goose asked with a trembling beak.

It was then that it happened. Like a painter threw a glob of paint over his eyes, black spots appeared in Shen's vision. The world started to dull, and a feeling, like a firework was going off in his stomach, drilled into the peacock.

"No," the peacock croaked out, "not now."

He knew he should have waited; it was reckless to come here.

Shen began to cough. Not light, dainty coughs, nor deep, rumbling ones but rather ones that made it feel as if your very lungs were going to erupt out of your mouth like lava out of a volcano. The pain was so great that Shen collapsed to the ground, hacking as he tried to clean out the mucus, saliva, and blood that was dripping out of his sharp, smooth beak.

Without even hesitating, Ping quickly rushed up to the fallen lord. "Are you okay? What happened? Is that blood?"

So lost in his pain was Shen that he didn't even notice the question. Instead, he focused on breathing as much as possible in between the violent, brutal attacks upon his body.

He might not have noticed the goose's exclamation, but he did notice when the creature put a wing over his head.

Snarling, Shen forced his complaining, raging, utterly unresponsive body to get away from the unworthy being that dared touch him. "I don't need your help," Shen managed to say, but the weakness in his voice betrayed him utterly.

The goose paid him no heed and instead told Po, "Get a wet towel."

With rumbling steps that would wake the dead and make every pebble in the nearby vicinity shudder in fear, the panda rushed away to do as told.

Green, blue and red soon mixed with black and Shen found his vision blinded. He tried closing his eyes but as he did, it was like his mind was thrown into a raging river and someone was smashing his face with a giant rock over and over.

Thankfully, after a few moments, his vision began to clear somewhat and his ears, which had felt like they were undergoing surgery with a gorilla, began to stop ringing.

He heard something, the goose he believed, say, "Po, help him upstairs; he needs to lay down."

"Okay."

Ignoring the weakness that was shackling his body, Shen snapped his eyes open like a striking snake and tried to force his body away from the panda but nothing, not even his wings, obeyed his orders.

"Don't you dare touch me with your filthy, undignified paws," Shen forced out through his coughing.

That didn't stop, flabby, pad like paws from grasping the Lord. Shed shuddered in revulsion and tried, weakly, to push away. It didn't work.

"Hey! That's not very nice." Po informed the peacock as he attempted to pick him up. "We're just trying to help."

It was obvious the panda was weak; his quivering arms were, in no way due to the lord's weight.

"Release me!" Shen managed to spurt out in pain, a light trail of blood leaking from his beak. It splattered onto the gray stone below.

Po ignored Shen and finally, with a huff and a puff, got the lord onto his metal talons; a lord, which then prompted tried to use those talons to skewer his assailant. Instead of blood and gore, Shen found himself falling down, unable to support his own weight. Black paws made sure he didn't fall far, which Shen, naturally, found deeply insulting.

"Gez, you are stubborn," Po said through gritted teeth as he held the lord up. "Are you here to assassinate the furious five or something?"

A new voice, light and easy to the ears spoke, "Someone was calling for help?"

Startled, Shen turned his gaze toward the newcomer. The first thing he noticed was the large straw hat, the second were the wings, the third was the long legs, the fourth was the long beak and beady, concern filled eyes.

It was official; this day could not get any worse.

At least not until the panda suddenly screamed, "No way," and dropped the lord.

Initially, Shen was quite happy that the creature had released him, but he decided to rethink that idea when his body came crashing onto the ground quite painfully. How Shen didn't impale himself on the many knives in his robe, he would never know.

"Po," Ping berated, "be careful!"

Shen didn't remain on the ground for long; sharpened talons and wings pulled him to his feet once again.

Po was bouncing around again. "I'm sorry," the panda was saying, "but it's Master Crane." With wide-open arms, the black and white animal gestured to the confused waterfowl as if that suddenly justified everything.

The tall bird chuckled as he curiously examined the peacock, "Well, I heard a disturbance and thought I might be able to help."

"He needs to lie down." the goose informed the kung fu master. "Out of nowhere, like he was struck by a curse, he got really sick – can't even support himself. Can you help us get him upstairs?"

"Of course."

Shen watched Crane very carefully – it was hard to see any details in his expression through his blurry vision, but he could still make out the interest and concern swimming in his eyes. There was no hint of malicious intent.

Was it possible that even he did not know who he was? Surely, Shifu told his students about him?

The next few minutes were absolutely humiliating for Shen, minutes of which he would never speak of again. Not only did the panda and the waterfowl ungraciously drag him up the bamboo ladder, but he also had to listen to the panda go on and on about how outrageously miraculous, astonishing, and 'cool' Crane was. It was cruel and unusual punishment.

Finally, he found himself being carefully laid down on something. It had a wood frame, demented so that the middle section bowed inward, and what appeared to be a cloth covering pulled tight over the corners. Pieces of wood and rough cloth easily pressed into Shen from all around. It was barbarously uncomfortable.

Was this supposed to be a bed?

Glancing around, Shen first noticed paintings, all of them containing the furious five in some manner or not. Crane, Mantis, Monkey, Tigress, and Viper were all on display, posing in kung fu stances or performing various techniques. Shockingly, the rest of the room was even more pathetic. A feat Shen was sure would have been impossible. But it was true; the rest of the room was made up of bowls, pots, utensils, a desk, mismanaged furniture, and random bags of grains. Still, the worst part, by far, was the smell – like wet and decaying fur – that blasted even his weakened senses.

Coughing, Shen turned his gaze, which was still spinning like he was in a whirlpool, toward the ceiling. At least the construction appeared adequate. The last thing he wanted was to die due to a collapsed roof.

A voice dragged the Lord out of his thoughts. "It very well may be poison."

Shen laughed out loud. The next second, as pain punished his foolishness, he wished he hadn't. "It's not poison! It's…" the peacock struggled for a moment as he tried to think what to say. It wasn't like he was going to tell them what his ailment really was. Eventually he settled on, "…it's hereditary."

And after that, Shen decided that he was done speaking. The pain of forming words and creating conversation was like pulling fire up his throat and out his beak.

"What do you mean?" Crane asked. "Wait, don't answer that, it obviously pains you to speak."

Shen merely closed his red eyes. Maybe Crane was somewhat competent? No scratch that. How in all of China did the kung fu master hope to figure out how what afflicted him if he didn't speak?

"Let's think about this. Hereditary implies family. You're a peacock."

Oh how Shen wanted to comment. He almost did, pain be damned but in the end decided to hold his tongue. It really was too bad; such brilliant deduction deserved praise. What definitely did not deserve praise was this torture device they were using as a bed. No way did something sleep in this thing, it was like resting on a bed of nails - sharp pricks and pokes everywhere.

"I know very little about your species. Let's see." Crane paused. "Most of them are nobility to the north, but there is also the royal family line of Gongmen…." The voice cracked as if something shattered its surface like a rock in a gentle lake.

Red eyes snapped open and focused on the tall bird. Frozen like a statue, Crane appeared not to be looking at Shen but rather through him. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open slightly.

Po, who the entire time, had been muttering frivolously over on the side, something that Shen tried very much to ignore, said, "Are you alright?"

Crane, as if something or someone snuck up on him, snapped out of his trance-like state and quickly stammered out, "Yeah. I'm completely fine." The bird threw a halfhearted smile toward Po.

So it appeared the kung fu master did know who Shen was after all. Such developments were unfortunate but not unexpected.

Once again, Crane looked toward Shen and said, "As I was saying, chances are high," he paused and accented his next two words sharply, "very high, that this guy is from a noble bloodline, and well, uh, in those families inbreeding can be problematic."

"What do you mean?" Po quickly asked. Shen was sure the dumb oaf was scratching his head.

"It's possible that he has a feeble immune system or other bodily issues that cause periodic problems for him." Crane answered.

Feeble! How dare he imply that Shen was weak! Throwing a glare that would knock over a lesser creature, the peacock fantasized his revenge against the shriveling, meager coward.

Waving his wings in front of him as if he were backtracking, the bird quickly said, "I mean no insult; I'm just trying to figure out what is going on and what I can do to help."

Looking Shen in the eye, the waterfowl signed once more.

The second wave was always worse; it had always been worse. So when it came, with the fury of a rampaging hurricane, one that's only focus was to make it feel like his insides were being shredded into tiny pieces, Shen was hardly surprised. Withering like a horde of small insects were devouring him alive, the Peacock Lord rolled over and released the contents of his stomach onto the floor. His vision was splitting, his sense of smell was gone and he was losing himself to the pain. Finally giving in, Shen laid completely still and waited for the darkness to claim him.

He didn't have to wait long.

* * *

 **Author Notes:**

I much prefer smaller chapters: 4000-5000 words is optical. This one, at only ~3800 was a bit on the short side, but that's fine. Although, the fastest reader in the world inhales information at a rate of almost 5000 words per minute. It would only take them approximately forty-five seconds to read this chapter.

We're just getting started.


	5. Close Encounters

**Smoke and Mirrors**

Chapter 3: Close Encounters

* * *

Shen opened his eyes. His body whispered its displeasure to him: his joints toyed with his cognizance and his muscles felt slow and unresponsive like they were stuck deep in mud. But that wasn't the worst part. No, there was this infernal scratching sound – like something was slowly dragging a claw across glass – prodding Shen's ears. It was extremely aggravating.

Rapidly blinking, Shen let the world come into focus.

That ridiculous avian kung fu master, Crane, was standing nearby. A cheeky, line-thin smile danced on his face like he knew some life-changing secret, as he wrote fancy, black characters on a piece of papyrus.

Crane paused in his writing and turned toward the peacock lord. "Good Morning," he said with palpable quantities of cheer.

Shen felt his eyes narrow, and hissed out at the large bird, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just working on some calligraphy." The crane smiled kindly.

Annoyed, Shen rummaged for a knife in his robe, but after a few brief moments of scrambling, his wings were unable to find any of the feather-like blades. Rapidly searching, his eyes quickly located the weapons sitting limp on a table across the room – the sun's early light reflecting off their edges.

Shen forced himself to breathe calmly, and, at the same time, tried his best to ignore the ridiculousness of the room he was in – this room, the Panda's, was teaching him more about the furious five then he ever wanted to know. It didn't help that the infernal bed he was laying on was inordinately uncomfortable as if dozens of flies were biting his back constantly.

Angrily muttering, "Imbecile," under his breath, Shen focused his attention back on the still-smiling kung fu master. "No, I meant…" the peacock blinked as he focused on the piece of paper under Crane's feet, "did you seriously decide to write, peacock?"

Crane's smile bloomed into a smirk like a flower in spring. "It seemed appropriate."

A groan came from Shen's beak and he had to prevent himself from hitting his head with a wing in exasperation. His father's words, crisp and clear, like that of a king, thundered throughout his head, _"A leader needs to keep their ears open – no matter how mundane, you cannot show any impatience or annoyance to your subject's plights, Shen. They need to know you care."_

The lord's groan morphed into a snarl and Shen rapidly shook his head – annihilating the mental image of the imperial peacock that was his father.

Mind clear, Shen spat out, his voice oozing with peeved anger, "Since you seem incapable of intelligent deduction, not surprising regarding your pedigree, I will try yet again. What are you doing?" After a moment, he added, for good measure, "It would be wise not to make me ask a third time."

The bird standing in Shen's presence dared laugh. It was a light, high-pitched sound, not sounding too different from the chirp of any other bird.

"I thought that was obvious," Crane said. "I wanted to make sure you're okay."

This time, it was the peacock's turn to laugh, but unlike the harmonious tunes that fell from Cranes beak, Shen's laugh was like death mocking the living – a dark, raspy, dangerous sound.

Crane's smile wavered slightly. "How are you feeling?" the kung fu master asked.

Shen kept his face absolutely bare of emotion. He was not about to tell this creature anything about why he got sick, how he got sick, or any such nonsense. Knowledge was power and Shen had no desire to share his with this idiot.

Lazily examining a wing, Shen commented, "Other than being surrounded by vermin? Quite exquisite."

A brief squawk of frustration assaulted his ears, and Shen felt a smirk of triumph fester on his beak.

"Just like that?" Crane asked, his voice leaking disbelief. "It seemed pretty bad yesterday."

"Of course I'm fine!" Shen glared at the dumb bird. "Unlike most, I have strong, pure blood."

Then, as if the Gods themselves were observing the conversation, Shen felt an itch build in his throat faster than snow melts in the midday sun. He tried, fruitlessly, to smash the imaginary bug crawling around, but it quickly escaped, transforming into a violent cough.

Crane sweetly asked, "Are you sure?"

A snarl, sounding far more canine than avian, started to grow. "Watch your beak," Shen threatened.

As if his body was suddenly too heavy for its frame, Crane's body sagged as he sighed loudly.

"Sheesh," the waterfowl said. "This is what I get for watching over you all night."

"All night?"

"Yes."

Red eyes narrowed. "And why would you do that?"

Picking up his paper with the care of a mother lifting her child, Crane shrugged and said, small amounts of irritation appearing in the cracks of his voice, "I dunno – maybe because it seemed like you were dying? I've never seen someone cough up so much blood before; are you sure there is no internal bleeding?"

Just as Shen was about to answer, his worst fears came to fruition. The entire house began to shake lightly, like it was shivering from the cold: the window rattled, the rickety furniture groaned, and the miniature figurines of the furious five twitched like children who had found the cookie car while their parents were away.

Something very large was approaching.

And Shen had a very good idea as to what or who it was.

Sure enough, a large black and white mass appeared at the top of the ladder. The panda, with a smile that could melt the cruelest heart, plopped onto the second floor with a heavy thump. There was a small bowl in his left paw that miraculously survived the trip.

Po bounced forward, a strange lethargic spring to his step, "Here we go! One totally awesome herbal tea coming up."

How could any creature in existence have so much cheer about nothing? What was wrong with this animal?

Shen eyed the small, ceramic, gray bowl. The potter had obviously been unskilled – the little object was unsymmetrical: some sides contained more clay than others, which meant the little cup couldn't lay completely flat. The pot hadn't even been glazed; it was an ugly mess.

"So you found the Jiang Xiang?" Crane asked.

A strange, smooth sound, like air shot out of a cannon, came from the panda's lips. He quickly added, with a slow wave of his right arm, "Did I ever!"

The panda took another step toward Shen, and the peacock found himself reaching for his knives yet again. His heart rate accelerated when his wings came up empty.

With mischief, like a disobedient child, the knives twinkled from across the room.

"What is this?" Shen asked as he tried to take a sniff at the bowl.

The smooth and calm voice of Crane answered, "Your tea."

We're they trying to poison him?

Almost immediately Shen disregarded the thought; no way did these weak creatures have the spine, or the morals, to attempt something so logical. Still, that didn't mean that Shen was going to drink it.

Once the panda got close enough, Shen quickly sat up – ignoring the light burn his muscles were giving off – and used a wing to swat the bowl out of the panda's outstretched paw. "I never said I wanted tea!"

The bowl crashed on the ground with a clang – liquid and small pieces of dark material littered the ground like watery confetti.

Crane eyed the dark stains on the wood with a frown. He turned toward the smug peacock and said, "It's what the doctor ordered. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"That may be, but it's not what I ordered." Shen said without a hint of sarcasm; his voice was clear and concise.

Just when would these simpletons get it? His word was law.

The panda blinked rapidly; the fur over his eyes fidgeted as he watched the wood drink its fill.

"Hey!" Po turned his eyes upon the narcissistic peacock. "Do you know how long it took to make that?"

Shen dismissed the repugnant creature with a wave of his wing. "Wipe that gobsmacked expression off your face; it's ridiculous." Pointing at the upside-down bowl, the peacock ordered, "And clean that up – you don't want to stain the wood due to your incompetence."

A glint was in the panda's eye; one that Shen knew all too well. It was a tiny thing – a seed blooming in a large, wild field. It was defiance. If left unabated, the seed would grow into a something far more dangerous.

The sight caused the peacock's nerves to ripple like leaves in the wind. But one more glance at the panda, who was furiously cleaning up the mess with Crane's assistance, removed any and all doubt; fear was replaced by a scathing loathing.

As innocently as he could, Shen inquired, "So the doctor said I should ingest Jiang Xiang?"

Momentarily, the cloth Crane was using to clean paused, and the waterfowl, through clenched beak responded, "That is what she said."

Po ignored the exchange and attacked the dark splotch with vigor.

Shen, like that of a predator toying with its prey, said, "While I have no doubt the doctor's credentials hardly make her qualified to work with me, I will admit that her advice seems sage. Panda, bring me some of that tea."

It was as if a firework had exploded.

"WHAT!" Po Screamed. "But you destroyed it!"

The soaked cloth in the panda's grasp bled broth as Po's grip intensified.

Even though Shen was looking up at the taller panda, especially from his position on the bed, his voice spoke from the highest pedestal. "Surely you made more than just that one cup?"

Po's frame shook. "No, make it yourself."

"But I am bed ridden; how do you suggest I go about doing so?" Shen asked.

"You just said you were fine, a few minutes ago." Crane angrily told the peacock as he pointed a wing at the downed lord.

The panda sighed loudly as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Shen ignored the stupid creature and answered Crane, "Better safe than sorry. Right?" the peacock purred. "Tell me, could you live with yourself knowing that I died because you were too lazy to make a cup of tea?"

The shuffling of heavy paws drew Shen's attention.

No trace of anger remained in the panda – there was an absolute void of negative emotion; instead, the panda merely looked at Shen with a small frown plastered on his face.

Shen's train went taut, and the peacock had to make a conscious effort to prevent it from fanning out. That look was something he knew all too well; he saw it every time his parent's looked at him.

Crane placed a wing on Po, and said, "Come on, Po. I'll help you."

With one angry glance back at him, the two left the peacock alone to his thoughts.

It was an action that the peacock greatly appreciated. He could only stand the panda's stench – soaked fur that smelt of day old broth and wet basil – for so long.

Stretching his limbs, Shen rolled, with dignity naturally, off the bed and onto his talons. The metal sunk lightly into the damp wood. Without wasting another second, the peacock lord strolled to the table where his knives were. Individually, with what one can only describe as loving affection, the lord picked up and placed each knife back into his robe.

Suddenly, as if struck by diabolical inspiration, the large, white bird froze and glanced down at his clothing. Red splotches marred the pristine white cloth like rain on a sunny day. Shen glared at the spots. Unfortunately, for the peacock, no matter how intensely he eyed the reddish-brown blemishes, they refused to cower and disappear.

After a moment, the lord sighed and turned his gaze to his tail. He took the time to stretch it out and fan it – the size easily taking up nearly half the room's width. A small bob of his head and Shen folded his train with a regal flip.

It was then that his inspection ground to a halt. The sound of light thumps on wood reached his ears, a sound that brought back nasty memories. Shen shivered lightly and turned toward the bamboo ladder, making sure that his composure betrayed nothing of his unease.

A similarly large bird quickly reached the top – Shen briefly wondered why Crane hadn't just flown up and instead had hopped up each rung.

"You're not going to get away with this." Crane informed the peacock.

With disinterest, Shen picked up a small figurine and examined it. Offhandedly, he replied with an amused, "Oh?"

The figurine in Shen's wing was nothing special: a simple wooden goose that wore no adornments. The carving itself was of decent quality, but there was nothing special that made it stand out. It was pitifully mundane.

"I know you're up to something," Crane said.

Shen dropped the carving. It clattered on the ground before coming to a stop.

Shen glanced at the kung fu master and smirked. "And what are you going to do about it? Hmmm?"

Yellow eyes narrowed. "If you do anything, you will regret it," Crane threatened.

It was obvious just how inexperienced the crane was at making threats. It sounded more like barnyard bickering than anything that could be potentially life threatening.

With a mock shiver of his body, as if a chill was traveling down his spine, Shen said, "My feathers, they're just trembling in fear."

Crane's wings clenched and his body shook like a tree in a storm.

A laugh fell from Shen's beak, and he dismissed the other bird with a large wave of his wing. "Now scamper off and tell your master all about the heinous peacock that has disturbed your harmonious life."

And like someone had flipped a switch, Crane's anger vanished and morphed into something else. His beak lightly quivered, and his eyes shifted around sporadically before coming to rest on a table, a table that now contained no knives.

The large bird turned toward the smirking peacock and opened his beak, but no sound came.

Shen, correctly reading the other bird's expressions, said, "Are you daft! I'm not going to kill the panda today!"

"Today?"

A smirk – one that would make the bravest ox cower in fear – appeared on Shen. "It's always wise to leave options open," he informed Crane.

Crane stared at the peacock with a blank expression.

Finally, after a few moments, Shen added, "Fine, nor tomorrow. I'll even give you my word."

And like the fool he was, Crane would believe Shen out of some ludicrous notion of honor. Thankfully, such concepts did not shackle Shen, but if the lie would get the kung fu master to leave, Shen had no problem uttering it.

"We'll be watching your every move." Crane's voice was harsh, but, just as Shen predicted, the large bird's posture relaxed like an unwinding spring – his wings fell limp by his sides, and his talons stopped gripping the wood in a deathly hold. Even the straw hat that the kung fu master's wore appeared less threatening.

Crane pointed out a small cup of tea the rested on the table next to him. "I'm not sure someone like you has any concept of monetary trouble," Crane said, "but that panda just spent a month of his earnings on that herb – just to make sure you were okay."

Shen reared back slightly. When had the waterfowl put that there?

Turning away, Crane prepared to leave. He paused only to say, "I thought you should know," before disappearing down the ladder and out of Shen's sight.

Red eyes turned toward the lightly steaming cup of tea that smelt like a damp forest. Shen sat there for a moment, staring at the poor craftsmanship. Then, like water forcing itself through a beaver dam, Shen felt a chuckle blast out of his mouth.

Without a second thought, Shen walked over to the cup, talons clicking on the wood. He picked it up with a wing and examined it closely. Then, he turned over his wing and watched as the murky, light-brown liquid splashed into the tan, wicker basket beneath him.

Task completed, Shen turned back toward the bed. Sitting down on the extremely uncomfortable surface, Shen brought a wing up to his beak and rubbed the underside of it.

He needed to readjust his plans a bit.

It was obvious that the furious five were now going to know of Shen's presence. That was unfortunate but not unworkable. It meant that his plans for the panda would have to progress very carefully. Still, it was not unthinkable that-

"Hi!" Po's voice crashed through Shen's thinking like the blast of a horn.

Shocked, Shen gripped a knife in his wing and turned toward the panda. He briefly wondered how he could have missed such a fat creature laboriously struggling up the ladder but found that thought quickly squashed when he looked at the expression on his dreaded foe.

There was no malice in the panda's posture; his eyes didn't piece Shen's soul from disappointment or concern; his paws didn't twitch as if anticipating an attack; his smile wasn't hiding nefarious intentions. Instead, everything about the panda was exuberant and innocent as if he were greeting a long lost friend.

Just where had the disappointment and rage from the panda gone? Could the fat animal have forgiven Shen for the tea? Already? Surely, no creature was that magnanimous.

So taken aback by the panda's unexpected mood, Shen simply responded with a flat, dispassionate, "Panda,"

Encouraged by the lack of animosity in the peacock's voice, Po continued, "Look. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. Let's just start over. I'm Po."

Shen paused for a moment before responding. "I'm known by many names, but most refer to me as Lord Shen," the peacock said; the amount of civility in his voice surprised him, but he quickly shrugged it off as another of his father's lessons – the man had always been a stickler for greetings.

Po closed an eye and quirked his head a little to the left. "Lord is a weird first name," the panda commented.

And alas, just like a fly snatched by the tongue of a frog, Shen's ire arose, and he snapped at the panda, "It's a title!"

Enthusiastically waving his hands, the panda took a step back, only to kick a small ball by accident. Shen's red eyes watched the little toy bounce off a wall.

"Wait, you're a lord; like a lord, lord?" the panda asked eloquently.

Shen glared.

Po chuckled nervously and looked away.

The noise in the nearby street accentuated the silence that followed. Animals could be heard laughing, talking, enjoying life, and planning for the new day. At least, Shen assumed that the day had just started. It wasn't that hard to deduce. It was not that uncommon for him to sleep an entire day after an "incident" and the sun's position complemented this theory.

Finally, after the silence was becoming unbearable, at least to the panda, Po asked, "Hey Shen?"

Instinctively, the peacock responded, with a light snarl, "Lord Shen."

"Do you remember a burning village?"

It was as if the entire world slowed down; Shen could hear his heart beating in his ears – a loud, majestic thumping. With venom lacing every syllable, Shen tightly gripped the knife in his wing and asked, "What did you say?"

Po started to play with the hands in his lap as he stared downward.

"I had this really weird vision about a burning village when you were asleep," the panda said in an abnormally quiet voice. "It started when I noticed the red symbol on your tail – it seems, I dunno, kinda familiar."

This was bad. If the panda knew that Shen had killed his people, everything changed. Shen mentally prepared himself for a fight. The anticipation in his body tickled his nerves like there were thousands of little bees dancing on them.

Po continued, "There was a bunch of smoke, fire, and screaming. I thought I saw a panda for a moment, but it might have just been a trick of the light. I didn't recognize anything until you appeared. You were holding a spear of some kind."

Shen watched the squirming panda and waited for the next words. After a few moments, it was apparent the panda wasn't going to speak again, so Shen prompted him with a growl-like voice, "And what happened next?"

"Nothing. You just stood there and then the vision passed."

Like a giant boulder had been lifted off his back, Shen relaxed, and said, "Then it's nothing to worry about."

It was still bad news, but as long as the panda didn't know what he had done, everything would be so much easier. Besides, it's not like it would matter in a few days anyway.

With experienced practice, Shen spun the knife in his wing around. The blade curved under a feather, over his wing, back under and then twirled in his palm before stopping in a perfect position to throw: blade poised between two different feathers. The entire action took less than half a second.

The explosion that followed almost caused the lord to let the knife loose.

"THAT WAS SO COOL!" Po yelled as he pointed at the feather-shaped, silver knife in Shen's wing. "How did you do that twirling thing with the feather…thing? Can I try? Oh, let me try, please!"

As he looked at the panda, bouncing from one leg to the other, he felt his anger build ravenously. Yet, at the same time, it was like someone had poked a hole in the bottom of a glass – Shen was far less angry than he thought he would be, and he had no idea as to why.

Shen flicked the knife, so it rested flat on his wing. "No, you cannot try."

The panda fell to his knees, his two paws gripping each other tightly. "Please!"

Red eyes glared at the panda begging on his knees.

It was like dealing with a child.

Closing his eyes, Shen merely said, "No, panda."

"Aw, but why not?"

A whining, annoying child.

Shen quickly snapped at the panda, his voice rumbling in displeasure, "Because incompetence and sharp knives do not combine well with one another. And as much as I would love to see you skewer yourself, it would devoid me the pleasure of your intended demise."

Po paused on one leg. He closed his left eye and turned away from Shen. Eventually, the panda asked, "Does that mean no?"

The squawk of frustration that burst from Shen's beak was far from exquisite.

"Hello. Are you feeling any better?"

The new voice belonged to the same goose from the day before. He was still wearing that deplorable hat that looked like a noodle bowl.

With a scamper that could wake the dead, Po rushed toward the goose and loudly exclaimed, "Dad, he's a lord!"

Upon hearing the word, Dad, Shen's body seized up. With his train twitching, Shen glanced, as inconspicuously as possible, around both of the fools as he looked for a third. There was no one else there.

The goose said, "Hopefully everything has been satisfactory." Small wings intertwined nervously as the smaller bird looked at the red and black peacock with a wobbly smile.

Shen blinked and looked back and forth between the two. "I fail to see the family resemblance," he said.

Black and white shoulders shrugged. "Well, he's my Dad; that's just the way it is," Po said.

Shen's chirp of amusement was in no way feminine. "How very," Shen made sure to sing the next word, "noble of you to care for such a being."

In a voice erupting with emotion, Mr. Ping said, "It was my pleasure – Po is the greatest son in the world!"

A red blush appeared on the panda's cheeks and he muttered, almost incoherently, "Dad…."

Shen wanted to throw up in his beak.

Then out of seemingly mid-air, a large and somewhat nefarious-looking spoon was in Mr. Ping's wing, which he used to smack Po's leg.

Ignoring his son's yelp of surprise, the goose said, "Of course, he isn't going to remain the greatest anything unless he gets downstairs and starts helping with the noodles."

Groans arose from both the building and the panda as the large, black and white animal waddled, and then fell down the ladder. He crashed on the ground below with a deafening thud. A thud that was accompanied by a symphony of sounds as bowls, knives, and plates rang and clattered down below.

The smile that the goose wore, as he looked to where Po had been, was poison to Shen's soul, but the lord forced the displeasure from his face and said, "A moment." The peacock held one of his wings vertically as a symbol of stop.

As if Shen had condemned the goose to some perilous fate, the fear began to bubble in the small bird's eyes.

Shen ignored any of Mr. Ping's apprehension and said, "I must confess: I am interested in how you came about the guardianship of such a child."

It pained Shen to hold off from the biting sarcasm that just begged to be released, but the goose was already uneasy with him, and he needed to know the answer to this question.

Mr. Ping looked away from the peacock and instead turned to the window – a nostalgic glint tinting his eye.

"It was the strangest thing," the goose started. "He arrived in a basket, the same one I still have downstairs. One day, I went out back to where my vegetables had just been delivered. There were cabbages, turnips, radishes." Mr. Ping counted off using the feathers on his wings.

After a brief pause, the goose said, "Only there were no radishes just a hungry baby panda. There was no note. Of course, Po could have eaten it. I waited for someone to come, but no one ever did. I've given up any hope of his real parents showing up – instead, it's fallen to me to make sure he understands what having a family means."

A single tear started its trek down Mr. Ping's face.

"Although," Mr. Ping said, "could you please keep this secret – I'm not sure Po realizes that he is adopted quite yet."

Shen blinked.

Unnerved by the continued silence and lack of reaction from the vile peacock lord, Mr. Ping started to fidget in place and said, "I've always wondered what happened to his real parents. You seemed interested in Po yesterday – you wouldn't happen to know, would you?"

Red eyes, slowly and carefully, looked into Mr. Pings own, piercing them harder than any spear or blade.

"It is true that I have met pandas who have lost children, but they would be incapable of helping your _son_." Shen said sharply.

Mr. Ping's looked away from Shen's ironclad gaze and said, "Why? What happened to them?"

"Fate."

And with that, Shen didn't utter another word. Instead, his quizzical gaze kept looking at the goose as if he was a hunter eyeing a piece of meat. Mr. Ping gulped audibly.

Finally, Po's feverish shouts from down below awoke the goose from his stupor, and the creature turned away as he said one last thing. "If you'll pardon me, I must attend to the shop before Po breaks something. Feel free to use anything you may require."

With small thumps, the small bird disappeared down the ladder and out of Shen's view. Shen hardily noticed; his mind was abuzz as he thought long and hard.

After that fateful day at the panda village, when the fires were winding down, and the screams were becoming but echoes, Shen had made sure to round up all of the stragglers. While the elders had been willing to sacrifice themselves, they had tried to protect their young by sneaking them out – some hid them in crates, boxes, bushes, and others had tried to flee with their spawn. Once the dust had settled, finding the children hadn't been hard; they had just followed the terrified cries.

He remembered his followers had placed the young in baskets and crates so that Shen could execute them one by one like an assembly line; yet, the peacock lord had decided not to bring down his weapon on the small black and white monsters. No, instead he had elected to give them to the wolves as a reward for their loyalty. The revolting creatures ate just about anything.

And to top it off, just to make sure no one dodged his wrath, Shen had made his followers scour the countryside for months after that event. The chances of even one kid successfully escaping his notice were infinitesimal – none of the young pandas should have survived.

Yet one did. Which meant, most likely, that someone had ignored Shen's orders to kill the kids. After all, Shen had never seen their bodies – he thought the wolves were going to eat the little critters for crying out loud; he had no desire to watch that. No, the most logical explanation was that someone had taken at least one of the children and saved them. As to why, Shen had no idea. Idiot's minds worked in weird ways. Still, it was now very possible that other pandas were alive too.

Never leave a wolf to do a peacock's job.

A white wing rubbed Shen's closed eyes as he muttered angrily to himself.

Perhaps the best course of action would be to keep the panda alive for now. It would be far easier to find other pandas if he had suitable bait. And kidnapping the bubbling buffoon shouldn't be too hard especially since it appeared the fool didn't know kung fu. How that was possible, Shen still had no idea.

Shen sighed loudly.

Why couldn't things ever be simple?

* * *

 **Author Notes:**

Happy Thanksgiving!

Do note that Shen's comments about the massacre in the village are his views on what happened. Shen is so caught up in his own brilliance that he has a hard time believing any pandas could have escaped unless someone ignored his orders or betrayed him. That doesn't mean he is right.


End file.
